A Brief Meeting
by IAmSherlocked2000
Summary: Used to be called Little Chapters Of People I Ship. Just another Scabmione (Scabior and Hermione) fanfic. Please read and comment. xx


***DISCLAIMER* I do NOT own Harry Potter or the characters in this fanfic!**

Scabmione – Hermione Granger and Scabior (One of the leaders of the Snatchers)

Hermione Granger never kept secrets. She was, in her view, quite an open person. Naturally, there were the odd few little white lies she told maintain her privacy, but nothing like this.

She stopped and held her head low as a group consisting of Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan passed her. She glanced up quickly and caught a quick look at their faces. Neville was slimmer, Dean had a vacant look in his eyes and Seamus no longer wore the cheeky smirk that had brought life to Gryffindor house. They had changed. But, then again, everyone had changed.

The war with Lord Voldemort had just been won, victory was theirs; but nobody was happy, no one wore smiles on their faces. Yes, The Dark Lord had been defeated, but at great cost. Great people had been lost and Hogwarts lay in ruins. Things, as everybody kept saying, were far from normal again.

Hermione turned a sharp corner and continued to walk at a fast pace. Her hand closed around the time turner around her neck and she checked the time. 11:59pm. One minute to midnight. She would be late if she didn't hurry.

Another three flights of stone stairs later, Hermione found herself at the edge of a large cave. A note was taped to the smooth granite of the cave entrance. It read:

_Slight change of plan. The others know we're meeting here. They will be watching us if we talk here. Meet me instead in the canyon underneath the Covered Bridge. You know where I mean. Oh, and take this paper with you so I know it's you. _

Hermione didn't need a signature to know who this note was from. She looked at the time turner once again. It was now five past midnight. She was officially late. She didn't have time to make the long journey to the canyon, so she brought her hands together and disapperated; leaving behind only a wisp of black smoke.

She landed heavily on her ankle. It hurt a lot but it, hopefully, wasn't broken. However, she pushed the thought to the back of her mind when a voice brought her to attention.

"You're late."

She nodded. She didn't know what to say.

"You have the note?" The voice asked again.

She turned on spun around and waved the flimsy piece of paper at him. He was quite young, no older than 25, but his hollow cheek bones and the dirt on his face made him seem aged. His shoulder length brown hair was tied up with a dirty mauve ribbon. He wore smart, but dirty, clothes topped with a leather jacket. His wand was grasped tightly in his hand and walked with a hesitant pace, as if Hermione might suddenly lunge at him.

This was the man she was looking for. This was Scabior.

Scabior was the last of the Snatchers; a group who had worked for Voldemort rounding up anyone who opposed him and seeing to their untimely death. Hogwarts had thought the Snatchers had met their deaths when the Covered Bridge collapsed. But, no. Scabior had, somehow, managed to survive. He was now hiding, hiding from anyone who might try to kill him. And the uncomfortably close date with death had most certainly taken its toll on him.

"Why 'ave you been seeking me?" Scabior asked, still standing at a safe distance. Hermione remembered that old cockney accent almost too well.

"I need you to do me a favour." Hermione answered, her voice wavering.

"Why?" Scabior was now pointing his finger at Hermione; he seemed to have developed a tremor. "What could someone like you possibly want from me?"

"What do you mean 'someone like me'?"

"Someone who wants to kill me." A sudden realisation crossed the man's face. His eyes widened. "Oh good Lord, you've come to kill me ain't you? Please, 'ave mercy. I ain't done nothing wrong for a long time." Tears were almost spilling down his grimy face.

"I haven't come to kill you." Hermione said, regaining her confidence. "Like I said, I need a favour."

"Like what?" Scabior asked.

"I need you to take a look at this." She said moving closer to Scabior, her hand reaching into the deep folds of her long overcoat. Her cold fingers brushed against the thing she required and she pulled it out and thrust it toward Scabior. He flinched as her arm neared; it was almost as if he was recoiling from her. After a moment of hesitation he allowed her to give him the item.

It was a ring. Black and smooth, not the kind of ring you'd wear for fashion purposes. Scabior took a while to examine the ring, holding it up to the brilliant light of the full moon and throwing it into the air a few times, never failing to catch it. When it had seemed he had observed it enough, he handed it back to Hermione.

"Where did you get this?" He asked. A look of worry smothered his face. Faint traces of frown lines made their mark on his forehead.

"I was on my way to Gringotts bank when a hooded figure slipped it onto my finger." Hermione answered back shrugging her shoulders. "He then whispered in my ear: 'Put it in your vault, I will collect it later.'"

"I see." Scabior murmured. Hermione was in his field of vision, but his eyes didn't fall on her. He seemed to be looking over her shoulder, thinking maybe. "Were you dressed or disguised as anyone who might 'ave 'ad something to do with this mysterious 'ooded man?"

"Not that I can think of- Wait, I remember now. I was disguised as Bellatrix Lestrange. We were going to break into her vault at Gringotts. He must of thought I was really her."

"Did you use polyjuice potion?"

"Yes."

"Then it's hardly surprising. And the figure said that he would collect the ring later?"

"Yes."

"Hmmm, Scabior paused, deep in thought. "Then it would appear you are in great danger."

Hermione felt her stomach flip and her heart do that flutterly thing whenever she was scared. "What, why?"

Scabior stepped closer to her and placed two firm hands on her shoulders. "It would seem that, whoever this person is, needs that ring back. Now that the real Bellatrix Lestrange is dead he will no doubt realise he has been tricked. He will track you down, but what he does with you when he finds you I really couldn't say."

"What am I going to do?" Hermione asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Scabior pursed his lips and took his hands of her shoulder's. He then gently took the ring out of her hand and slipped it on his finger. "I'll take it off your 'ands, it will be me the figure will be tracking not you."

Hermione felt a tear escape her ducts, she held it back. "You'd do that for me?" Scabior nodded. Suddenly a distant clock chimed and Hermione knew morning was nearing. "I have to go, Ron and Harry will be looking for me."

"Very well then. It was a pleasure doing business with you."

Hermione nodded graciously then began to walk off. However, she paused mid-stride. She could hear Scabior's footsteps nearing her. She felt his warm hand on her shoulder.

"Look, Hermione." He said, looking at the ground as if it was something fascinating. "Ever since we met in the woods when I was, you know, tryin' to kill you and all, I've been wanting to say something to you. It's just that, I 'onestly can't find the words and…"

His speech was cut off abruptly as Hermione grabbed and pulled him into a gentle embrace. She looked straight into his eyes and he looked into hers. Their lips touched. The kiss was light at first, but it quickly grew into a passion that burned like invincible fire. Eventually, Scabior had to pull away simply for breath. He would have been happy to continue.

Hermione brushed a stray hair from her tight ponytail behind her ear and whispered: "You don't have to say anything."

_**Hey all! It's me! Guess what… I've started posting again! **____** BTW I've decided to discontinue my Reuniting the Two Brothers fanfic. I know this may upset some people, but I am committed to quite a few different things and I find it hard to post nowadays. Well, bye for now! XD**_


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